


Hello, Darkness, My Old Friend

by milka121



Category: Persona 5, Persona Series
Genre: AND GAY, Akechi is Done, M/M, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-24
Updated: 2018-05-24
Packaged: 2019-05-13 07:06:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14744220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/milka121/pseuds/milka121
Summary: Akechi is sick. And that's the least of his problems.





	Hello, Darkness, My Old Friend

**Author's Note:**

> seriously though I named this docs document 'hello darkness my old friend' as a joke but I can't come up with a better title rn. and besides it suits Akechi. fight me  
> also this wa kind of inspied by [this awesome AkeShu art](http://ask-chairkun.tumblr.com/post/163976789582/askgoroakechi-ask-chairkun)! Check out both of these askblogs, they are both awesome.

The thing about being a detective is, you can’t exactly take a day off - even if in reality you rarely do any kind of actual detective job. Mostly you just kill people for your sociopathic father. Because that’s a thing.

Anyway, Akechi knew he was sick from the moment he has opened his eyes in the morning. But you can’t exactly tell the most powerful man in Japan that you can’t do your duties because you are an idiot who forgot to bring his umbrella yesterday and got completely soaked, to an amazement of some highschool fangirls and to his own resignation. And so Akechi was stuck drinking one hot cup of tea after another, swallowing a bunch of painkillers and sucking on lozenges. And sneezing all over the place.

He spent over ten minutes cleaning off Sae’s place after an especially powerful sneezing session. He didn’t succeed, and before he could explain that  _ I’m so sorry no it’s okay I really am fine _ , Sae kicked him out with that dangerous spark in her eye, telling him to get some sleep and buy some proper cold medicine.

Akechi smiled, laughed politely, got interrupted by some nasty cough and left the police station, full aware that he, under any circumstances, could not go back home and sleep. Or buy any medicine without a risk of being poisoned by some more aware member of society.

He fidgeted a little, unsure what to do, and then sighed and decided to go to one of the few places he knew for sure wouldn’t be many people at.

And he was right - Leblanc was empty. Weirdly empty, to be honest - Akechi couldn’t see the owner, Sojiro, inside - but Akechi was tired, everything hurt and he just wanted some damn coffee and bit of peace.

The doorbell rang behind him as he came in. He put his suitcase on the seat next to him and sat down at his usual spot. Then coughed. Then felt like sneezing, so he reached into his pocket-

Oh no. No, not now, for fuck’s sake, just hold on a moment longer-

“Akechi?” he heard a familiar voice, and that was the moment his body decided it’d be the best moment to sneeze with the force of a hurricane.

“ACHOO!”

Somewhere in the corner of his vision, a black-shaped spot jumped up and fled from the room.

Well, then at least Akira’s cat didn’t have to witness how he desperately brought both of his hands to his face, trying to cover all the snot that just have flown out of his nose. Honestly, how much could it hold?! Akechi doubted it was logistically possible.

“Uh, do you need anything? A hankerchief?” Akira blinked, unsure.

“N-no, I have some with me,” Akechi replied quickly - and realised that reaching for his pocket would mean using one of his hands, and using one of his hands would mean that he  _ can’t _ cover his face with it. He coughed. “...On second thought, I would really appreciate it, if it isn’t too much trouble.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Akira dived somewhere behind the counter and in no time handed Akechi an unopened pack of humanity’s best invention. (Excluding coffee, of course.) 

Akechi nodded politely and somehow managed to open the thing with one hand and also not expose all the mess on his face. He wiped his face and blew his nose with relief. “Thank you,” he said, sending Akira a small smile. “Sorry you had to see such embarrassing sight.”

“Don’t worry.” Akira shrugged. “Are you okay, though? You are rather flushed. You sure you don’t have a fever?” He extended his arm, as if to touch Akechi’s forehead, and Akechi leaned away from Akira’s hand.

“I’m okay, really.” It took all of his willpower not to sniff loudly. “I would love some nice cup of coffee, though.”

Akira regarded him for a second, seemingly not convinced, but hey - it was Akechi who was a client here. “If you say so.”

Akira shuffled behind the counter, gathering some probably important things for the process. Akechi knew close to nothing about secrets of brewing LeBlank’s famous coffee - and not like he cared, really. Of course, it was expected that Kurusu would be here, but as for now Akechi could not fantom a reason for the Phantom Thief to attack him.

Akechi, on the other hand…

“I’m gonna do extra strong today.”

Akechi blinked. “Come again?”

“Coffee. Extra strong. Since you look like you are about to die at any moment.” Akira continued as he did before, but something in his sharp, calculated moves was almost threatening. Maybe Akechi was imagining things… but for a fraction of a second, he felt as if Kurusu was regarding him all this time, even though Akechi was fairly sure he didn’t look at him once. There was something catlike in Kurusu - something that made seem even his laid-back, relaxed attitude seem as if he was ready for anything.

Akechi nodded once again and decided against trying to murder Kurusu while sick.

Instead, he reached for his phone and absentmindedly checked his mails. Nothing suspicious, right? And furthermore, Kurusu couldn’t see what he was looking at - more secure than going through some papers in his suitcase. Though, to be honest… it  _ might _ make Kurusu less suspicious of him. It’s not like Akechi had any incriminating things just laying there, anyway.

He reached for his suitcase and opened it; he grabbed the first papers that got into his hand. He reached into his pocket and took out the pen - his favourite, old-fashioned one. Parker. One of the first things he got when he became a detective. Some irrational part of Akechi believed that it would bring him luck.

Well, not this time, apparently. The letters seemed to be swimming all over the document, making it impossible for Akechi to focus, much less read anything. He sighed, rubbing his temples.

“You sure you’re okay?” Kurusu put a cup of coffee in front of Akechi. 

“Yeah, of course.”

“Oh, really?” Kurusu raised his brows. “Because you didn’t even notice my art talent.”

Art talent? What was he-

Oh. Akechi took a look at the coffee. Of course. Coffee art. An awful lot primitive, but he could still clearly see a milk foam heart on the surface.

That fucker.

“Thank you,” Akechi said with his usual, sickly sweet smile. It was impossible that Kurusu couldn’t see through that, not after all the time they spent together, but despite every bit of common sense Kurusu had to have, he still smiled back at Akechi as if he was completely clueless.

“It’s my treat,” Kurusu said. Not ‘it’s on the house’ - no, he just had to deliberately mess with Akechi, hadn’t he? Pretending like he cared? Like they weren’t both acting?

Akechi stopped himself with the rest of his willpower from pouring the hot coffee over Kurusu’s stupid face.

“That’s very generous of you,” he muttered instead. And ruined all of Kurusu’s hard work in a single sip.

He glanced at Kurusu’s face - and despite everything he hoped for, Kurusu seemed unfazed. More; almost glad. As if Akechi drinking this coffee was his plan all along.

Shit. What if it was? It didn’t taste any different, from what Akechi could tell, so it probably wasn’t poisoned or filled with some drugs. But hell, Kurusu was too smart for his own good, so Akechi wouldn’t be surprised if he had decided to end Akechi that way.

“By the way,” Kurusu added, “I put something extra in your coffee.”

Oh, for fuck’s sake.

Akechi spat out his coffee, but it was way too late; if Kurusu put anything in this - cyanide, solanine…

“Something to warm you up.” Kurusu waved a small, plastic wrapping around. Oh. A cold medicine.

Akechi would have murdered him right there and then if he wasn’t so damn tired.

“You are so considerate. Thank you.” Akechi looked back on his papers, trying to hide the expression on his face. The words didn’t make more sense than they did up until now, but nonetheless Akechi wrote some nonsense in an empty place on the paper to appear as if he was indeed doing something Really Important and Should Not Be Interrupted.

Kurusu, it seemed, was a total ignorant in means of social interaction.

“You really don’t look well, you know.” He leaned forward, propping his head on his hand. “You are shaking your head constantly. One might think you are sleepy.”

_ I am, but my shit-for-brains father would kill me if he heard that I spent the day sleeping. Because, hey, I’m fairly sure some man of his is following me right now! Isn’t family great? _

“I am, a bit. But my work can’t exactly wait.” Once again, detective work seems to be the perfect cover. It’s ominous enough for Kurusu to believe in whatever he said.

“Oh, really?” Kurusu tilted his head. “Because you keep writing ‘pancakes’ on the text.”

Damn Freud and behaviourism. Eating pancakes while stressed must have damaged him irreversibly. Akechi coughed. “W-well, that’s-”

Kurusu laughed. “Don’t sweat it. Though if you are delirious, I might suggest that you seriously rest.”

“I’m not delirious,” Akechi protested, “just tired.”

“Mhm. And what exactly did tire you up, detective?”

Oh, so many things. Like the target he had taken care of yesterday. Or another one of this stupid interviews that made him grin like an idiot for hours. And his coffee machine at home broke, so that meant he was down to instant coffee with its weird, chemical aftertaste. 

Akechi shrugged. “Stress, I guess.” He took another sip of his coffee. Kurusu had to be a magician to be able to put a medicine in it and yet not change the taste at all.

Well. He was Joker, after all. “Stress, you say.” Akira looked at him, probably unconvinced, but to Akechi’s relief, he didn’t press the matter further. Instead, he just put a whole pot of coffee in front of Akechi. “I will be upstairs if you need me.”

“Thank you,” Akechi replied politely with another one of his smiles. 

Kurusu waved him from across the room - that fucker - and disappeared upstairs, leaving Akechi alone in the cafe.

Akechi wondered for a second how much havoc could he wreck until someone would come up and drag him to a nearest police station, and sighed. However appealing the idea was, he really should do some paperwork. And LeBlanc was as good place as any to do this - it was quiet, he had good coffee and the person he will probably kill in near time in close proximity. What more could he ask for, really?

He sneezed, blew his nose, rubbed his temples and came back to filing documents.

One would think that being a detective would be a more exciting profession… Akechi felt worn out even before he pressed the pen to the paper. He propped his head on his hand - it was harder and harder to keep it upright. His whole body felt heavy… But if he just close his eyes for a second, just to regain a tiny bits of strength… just for now…

Before he could take another sip of his coffee, the world went black.

* * *

The first thought Akechi had after waking up was ‘oh, shit.’ Then, ‘which time is it?’ and ‘is that a blanket?’

The clock on the wall helped him answer the first question. It was, like teenagers say, fucking late, and Akechi was fairly sure it meant that he had missed his last train home.

The second question was a bit more tricky to answer. While the thing wrapped around him surely looked and felt like a blanket, having a blanket around him would suggest that someone has consciously chose not only not to wake him up, but furthermore put the said blanket around him. The only people Akechi has seen enter today were Kurusu and the cat.

Akechi could hardly imagine Kurusu putting a blanket on him, but alternative was… Well. A cat. Which, taking Kurusu into account, was probably not exactly impossible, but nonetheless something told Akechi it was probably not the answer he was looking for.

Another look around revealed that his cup of coffee was gone, as was the pot. The sign at the entrance was flipped as well - now the place was apparently closed, despite Akechi clearly being here, and he couldn’t fathom a reason other than being a customer that would make Kurusu want him here.

Anyway, he has surely spent too much time here. He took the blanket off his shoulders - he immediately felt a surge of cold hair hit him - and grabbed his suitcase. How careless of him; if Kurusu put the documents back, there was nothing stopping him from looking through them as well. Not that Akechi had anything to hide, mind you. Not there.

He was halfway on his way to the exit when he heard: 

“Oh, you’re awake.”

Akechi cursed in his mind. He turned to Kurusu with his sweetest of smiles plastered all over his face. “Don’t worry; I was just leaving.”

“That’s what worries me,” Kurusu said, and was he always that annoying? Akechi had to gather all of his remaining strength just to keep his happy Detective Prince act a little longer.

Akechi didn’t stop smiling. “Thank you for your time,” he said and turned towards the exit.

Kurusu caught his sleeve quicker than Akechi could made a step. “Wait. Are you planning on going home by foot? I bet the last train to your place for today has already left.”

Akechi’s smile widened - and then he couldn’t take this anymore. He jerked his arm away from Kurusu’s grip.

“What is  _ wrong _ with you?!” Akechi hissed. “What are you playing at, huh?! What’s that about?!”

Kurusu seemed suspiciously calm at Akechi’s outburst. “What do you mean by ‘that’?”

“This- _all_ of this!” Akechi gestured towards the seat he was sleeping at moments ago. “All this, this _coffee_ and _sucking up_ and _this fucking_ _blanket_ -”

“Well,” Kurusu started, “you looked sick. Still do, actually.”

Akechi snorted. “Don’t give me this shit. Like I would believe in your pure kindness-”

“Also, I kinda want to fuck you.”

Akechi opened his mouth, ready for another round of screaming - and closed it. He blinked, then blinked again, and then wondered if his fever has gone so bad he was hallucinating.

Kurusu still had that unfazed, smug look on his face, as if nothing has happened, as if he didn’t just-

“What.” It didn’t sound like a question at all. Mostly because Akechi was more trying to convince himself he didn’t finally fall into insanity than asking Akira for details.

“You heard me.” Kurusu shrugged. “I thought you will understand the subtle machinations of mine, which were clearly moving towards asking you out.”

Oh shit. Shit, shit, shit. Akechi’s own bloodlust and that fucking cold made him blind and stupid enough to completely miss the point of everything. 

“Uh,” Akechi choked up. “Well,” he started again, only for his voice to stop working. 

“I didn’t expect you to answer right away, you know,” Kurusu said. “I don’t want to pressure you. It didn’t quite go as I expected… So, I will understand if-”

“N-no,” Akechi heard himself speak up, “I’m alright. With this. By which I mean, yes.” He coughed.

_ What the fuck _ , the voice in the back of his head asked politely. Akechi pushed it away. It wasn’t like he  _ wanted  _ to do this, it wasn’t like he was blushing furiously right now - it had to be the fever, it had to be - but having the leader of Phantom Thieves as his lover would be useful. Probably.

_ And how exactly is that? _ , the voice asked. 

Dunno, Akechi replied. Maybe his kink is sharing his next thievery target. Maybe. Probably.

Akechi hoped that the response would throw Akira off-balance, but to his annoyment, Kurusu stayed as unfazed as he was. He did a step forward - their chests were almost brushing with how close Kurusu stood.

This was bad. This was also very good, which was even  _ more  _ bad. Akechi shouldn’t be anticipating this. He shouldn’t be feeling his erratic heartbeat quicken, he shouldn’t tilt his head up, he shouldn’t close his eyes and lean forward and-

“ACHOO!”

“Well,” Kurusu said, taking off his snot-covered glasses, “that’s quite an original attempt at seduction.

Akechi hit him over the head with his suitcase. 

**Author's Note:**

> You thought I can write romance? Well too bad lmao


End file.
